


Adilet

by alistairweekend



Series: Wren Hawke [5]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Family, Gen, Post-Dragon Age II
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 01:36:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3433181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alistairweekend/pseuds/alistairweekend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How Wren and Anders came to adopt their second child, Adilet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adilet

**Author's Note:**

> Post-DAII, Anders and Wren settle down in a tiny village in the countryside when they realize Wren is pregnant. After their son Kazimir is born, they decide to stay and set up an inn that is a safe haven for apostates in the war, so that they can raise their child away from the fighting while still helping the mages. The inn comes to be known as the Sanctuary.

When the woman arrived, it was close to midnight. It was a good thing Wren was still awake and stationed on the ground floor of the inn, otherwise she might not have heard the quiet knock on the door.  
  
The new visitor was elven, her ears long and slender, poking out through her wavy auburn hair. She was damp all over due to the soft drizzle coming down, and her form was hunched, one of her hands placed on her belly, which bulged through the fabric of her rather tattered dress.

"Come in." It was more of an order than an invitation, although Wren’s voice held no malice. She wrapped an arm around the smaller woman’s shoulders and helped her inside and to a couch. It did not escape Wren that the woman’s eyes darted about the spacious room in a nervous manner. Behavior such as that was not uncommon in new guests. "No templars here, I promise," Wren said, meeting the woman’s gaze steadily when she turned her attention back to her. "You’re safe here."  
  
That seemed to relax her, if only a little, and Wren stood up abruptly. “Your hands are shaking. I’ll be right back. Stay here.” She disappeared down a small staircase behind the counter of the bar, and all the woman could do was take in more of her surroundings. To the left of the bar and the mysterious staircase Wren had gone down, there was a hallway, and blocking the view of it was another flight of stairs, this one leading up. It was likely both the hallway and the upward stairs led to the rooms available for board. In the woman’s immediate vacinity, there were a couple more plush chairs and couches circling a fireplace, whose fire was currently smoldering with a dull glow — just enough warmth emanating for her to be grateful for it.  
  
Wren emerged with a steaming bowl of soup, and handed it to the woman. They were silent as she eagerly gulped down the food, and after she had finished she absently tilted the dish back and forth to swirl the remaining drops of broth. “I was suspicious, when I first heard about this place…” she began in a hushed voice. “The Champion of Kirkwall, running a secret inn for apostates? When she is not a mage herself? Impossible.”  
  
As she continued, explaining how she had been driven to find the fabled Sanctuary after becoming pregnant with nowhere to stay, Wren’s gaze was sympathetic. She was about to tell the woman how glad she was that she had made it, that she could stay as long as she liked, until a drowsy voice interrupted her thoughts.  
  
"Mama?" A toddler stood at the bottom of the upward staircase, his vague inquiry directed at Wren.  
  
"Kazimir, what are you doing up?" He mumbled something about Papa wondering where she was. Wren stood again and went to the boy, who reached for her hand. Her ebony skin was dark against his lighter tawny color. She turned apologetically to her guest and assured her she would only be a moment.  
  
Leading her son upstairs, Wren tucked him back into bed and peeked into her own bedroom, letting her husband know that she was tending to a new guest and would be to bed soon.  
  
Upon returning downstairs, Wren prepared to ask the woman her name and when her baby was due, and what room she would have her stay in. But the woman was asleep.  
  
Although one would have to look hard to see it, there was a smile in Wren’s eyes as she covered the woman with a blanket, snuffed out the candles, and went back upstairs.  
  
***  
  
The woman went into labor the next morning, her cries of pain waking nearly everyone in the inn.  
  
Anders rushed downstairs and wasted no time in transporting the woman into the infirmary room, while Wren did her best to put on a calm face and ran the tavern as if it were a normal day. The patrons of the Sanctuary understood the situation, and an atmosphere of tension hung over the main room of the building. Most of them were sympathetic to the woman, and did not wish for the day to end badly.  
  
People came and went; it was a busy day at the inn. It was evening and Wren was cleaning up when Anders finally emerged from the tiny hospital. Deep, dark circles of shadow were cast below his eyes, adding to the grim expression on his face. Wren put aside the rag she was using to wipe the counter and gazed at him, brow creased.  
  
Anders explained that he had delivered a healthy baby… but the woman would not last for much longer. She had already been sick, malnourished beyond repair, and there was nothing his magic could do to strengthen her body. Despite her ailing condition, however, she had managed to ask for Wren.  
  
Without hesitation Wren told Anders to go get some rest and entered the room herself. The woman laid on the bed, draped in offwhite sheets and pale face covered in a sheen of sweat. She held a bundle that she gazed down at with happy tears. Wren made her presence known by taking a seat on a stool next to the bed, and the woman turned her head.  
  
She held out the baby with effort, her arms quivering. Wren took it and looked down to see a child whose ears were round, completely contradicting its mother’s obvious elven heritage.  
  
"Her name…" the woman articulated, her voice barely audible. Wren returned her attention to her, eyebrows raised in a silent question.  
  
"Her name is Adilet. Give her… a good home…" She took a trembling breath. "Please."  
  
Wren took her hand and squeezed it. “I will,” she promised solemnly.  
  
The woman offered a faint smile, her lips pursing in the beginning of more words, but she was not able to speak them. Instead she sank back into the pillow with a serene air, and quietly left this world.  
  
Wren took a deep breath and left the room, cradling the newly orphaned infant close to her. If her hands had not been clasped in a firm grip on the fabric swaddling the baby, they would have been shaky.  
  
Anders was waiting for her at the counter of the bar. Instead of chastising him for not resting as she had asked, Wren met his gaze for a long moment. A considerable amount of information seemed to be exchanged between them in silence before Wren said, “Her name is Adilet.”  
  
Eyes compassionate yet melancholy, Anders looked down at the baby. He knew this child would more likely than not grow to become a mage. He knew that her human ears, despite an elven mother, gave implications of either an unhappy or forbidden union between the parents, and that there would be much strife ahead for her should her lineage be revealed. He knew that if she were left to fend on her own in the streets, not only an elf-blooded orphaned child but also an apostate, she would surely die.  
  
"Who’s that?" Kazimir’s voice sounded at Wren’s knee. The young boy stood on tiptoe, trying to peer at the bundle in his mother’s arms, but he was much too short. Wren and Anders’ gazes met each other again, and this time Wren’s message was clear:  _You know what we have to do._  
  
Anders nodded slowly. Wren’s lips formed a bittersweet smile, and she handed her burden over to him.  
  
"This," Anders addressed Kazimir as he leaned down, giving his son a better look, "is your new sister. Adilet."


End file.
